


find what you're looking for

by starshrine



Series: Reverse AU [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Android Hank Anderson, Banter, Bisexual Connor, Bisexual Male Character, Caffeine Addiction, Clubbing, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Is a Good Bro, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is a Little Shit, Drug Addiction, Falling In Love, Family Loss, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Human Upgraded Connor | RK900, Insomnia, M/M, Memory Loss, Might add more tags later, Past Character Death, References to Depression, Role Reversal, Sex Addiction, Slow Burn, Snark, Temporary Character Death, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, connor is sexually active, i don't think anything that would warrant an explicit rating will be written in tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22635997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starshrine/pseuds/starshrine
Summary: HK800-51, “Hank,” was designed to always accomplish his mission. He was designed to be the perfect detective. He was not designed to know how to deal with the complicated mess that was Lieutenant Stern and the software instabilities that gripped him even after resets, drawing him to the detective for reasons beyond his programming.—Loosely follows the events of the deviant path in game (but with some creative liberties ;). POV will switch between Hank and Connor at points.Should end in about 8 chapters or so, with updates every 1-2 weeks.
Relationships: Connor & Gavin Reed, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: Reverse AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628428
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	find what you're looking for

“Hello, Hank.” Amanda spared him a glance in greeting before turning back towards her roses, snipping stems methodically with the sharp edge of her scissors. “Lieutenant Stern has been officially assigned to the deviancy case. You are to work with him, and see what information you can gather. Your mission is to put a stop”— _snip—_ “to this deviancy phenomenon.” She turned around to face him, freshly cut rose in hand. “I have great faith in you, Hank. Remember, he is only an instrument in your task. If he were to perish…” She rotated the rose between her fingers. “You are to continue without him.”

“Understood, Amanda.”

—

The first thing that Hank learned about Lieutenant Stern was that nothing was easy and simple when it came to him. He looked for him at the police station, but the man was ostensibly missing. Asking around, he received responses ranging from suspicious to dismissive to hostile. Judging by the current climate towards androids, this was to be expected. After a few silent stares, shrugs, and I-don’t-knows, he gathered that the man was rather promiscuous and liked to frequent human-only nightclubs after hours. Or, as delivered by the DPD officer:

“Connor? That sleazy fuck is probably trying to suck face at one of those shitty nightclubs downtown. Oh, none of that Eden Club bullshit. He’s not an android type of guy.” A snort. “Go cockblock him. That’ll ruin his night for sure.”

Hank deduced that at least one of Connor’s coworkers was not out for his happiness.

Club infiltration did not turn out to be easy and simple either. The first club he tried to enter, he registered the bouncer standing next to the “No androids allowed” sign and turned back towards a nearby thrift store where he randomly grabbed the first shirt and dark pants that he had calculated to fit his measurements. To hide his LED, he parted his hair to the side and tied it back into a ponytail. The bouncer raised an eyebrow at his pink and blue zebra striped shirt, but his apparently questionable fashion choices were not enough to bar him from entry.

Now he was on his fifth club: Club Cain. Finding this man was proving to be quite troublesome. A sea of faces swarmed his vision as Hank weaved between sweaty bodies, scanning for the lieutenant.

A scan of his immediate surroundings brought up Donna Brown, 23. Oscar Lyman, 25. Joe Fleming, 31. Mary Rodgers, 28. No sign of Connor Stern. As he neared the bar, a voice suddenly interrupted his search.

“What’s someone like you doing here, big guy?” Slurred speech, possible signs of inebriation. His social protocol informed him this may be an attempt at flirting. Hank found that rather amusing, considering his current appearance was far from what his data informed him as conventionally attractive.

“I’m just looking for a friend.” He plastered a thin smile before moving to continue on his planned trajectory around the perimeter.

“No time to waste on others, huh? You must be really desperate to find that _friend,_ ” she called after him.

Yes, he really did want to find Lieutenant Stern. And technically, he was his work partner, not a friend. He did not know what she could have been insinuating. No matter. He had finally found his target leaning over the counter by the bar, chatting with a woman whom a quick scan informed was Lucy Pickford, 29, a journalist at Detroit News.

Lieutenant Stern, Connor.

Born: August 15, 2004. Aged 34.

Police Lieutenant, Detective Bureau, Gang and Narcotics Division.

The picture of Connor supplied by his database appeared out of date. As opposed to the neatly slicked back hair and clean shaven face of Picture Connor, Real Life Connor had longer and messier hair, a 5 o’clock shadow, and the eye bags of an insomniac. He had a pale complexion dotted sparsely with freckles, hardened brown eyes with a glint of playfulness (in contrast to the more kindly and honest expression in the picture, or what humans might describe as “puppy dog eyes”), and sharp features: clearly defined cheekbones, nose, and jawline. His shirt — navy with a tiny white flamingo print — was half tucked into his pants, the first three buttons unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the lean muscle of his forearms. Hank added _disorganized, laid back appearance,_ and _possible sleeping problems_ to his file on Connor. He decided to tack on _attractive_ as an afterthought.

Hank considered his options for approach.

> Polite

> Flirty

> **Direct**

“Lieutenant Stern.” Hank raised his voice so that it could clearly be heard over the loud blare of music. Connor turned his head to face him, annoyance clear on his face. Even though Hank had only been activated for a week and was still a novice with human social cues, he could feel Connor’s eyes burn a hole into his skin, the clenched jaw on his expressionless face the only other indication of his animosity. “You’ve been assigned a homicide case. I’m here to pick you up as your new partner.”

Oblivious to the death glare of the man beside her, Lucy chimed in before Connor could speak. “Looks like a you’re a wanted man, Connor,” she cooed.

Any sign of resentment faded from Connor’s face as he turned back to face Lucy. “Sadly. I would have loved to spend more time with you Luce,” he murmured into her ear before giving her a peck on the cheek. She responded by pulling him into a fully fledged kiss.

“See you around, _Lieutenant_.”

Connor stuck out his tongue. “I generally don’t like being reminded of work outside work, but I’ll make an exception for you, babe.”

Hank added _flirtatious_ to his ongoing catalogue of Connor’s personality traits. _Troublesome_ was already on the list.

“Aw. I appreciate that, sweetheart.”

Before Connor could respond with any more honeyed words, Hank cleared his throat. “We need to go, Stern.”

The corner of Connor’s mouth lifted into a crooked smile. “Dropping the title now? What, getting impatient?”

“Yes,” Hank stated flatly before grabbing Connor’s wrist and dragging him out of the club.

Once they were outside, Hank dropped Connor’s wrist like dead weight.

“Damn, you got a grip.” Connor shook out his wrist before fumbling in his pockets for something. His right hand resurfaced seconds later with a cigarette between his index and middle finger, which he promptly stuck in his mouth. _Seasoned smoker_ , Hank noted.

“You know, if you wanted to hold my hand, you could have just asked,” Connor mumbled around the cigarette sandwiched between his lips, lighting the end before quickly sticking his right hand back into his pocket.

Hank ignored him. The human phrase “No way in hell” popped up in his peripherals as a possible response, but he pushed it away. He pulled out his ponytail, restoring his natural middle part. He then pressed his finger to his LED to call for a cab as Connor exhaled a cloud of smoke into the chilly night air. The lieutenant eyed him curiously, but made no comment. Good. Having a human with no marked distaste towards androids as his partner makes things easier.

“I hope you understand that if it weren’t for Lucy, I would have just told you to fuck off.”

…But not much easier. This man was still troublesome “as hell,” to use a human turn of phrase.

“I could tell.”

“And I could tell you were an android.”

Hank furrowed his brow at that, LED spinning yellow, and Connor elaborates.

“From the way you walked, talked, body language. You really need to work on that social interaction thing if you want to blend in more. No human acts like that.”

“Huh.” So the Lieutenant title really was given out of merit and not some kind of gross oversight. No matter what one could say about Connor’s life habits, he was still a good detective. Hank made a mental note to pay attention to behaving more natural in the future.

Connor took a long drag before he turned to face Hank, actually focusing on him this time, taking him in as if really _seeing_ Hank for the first time that night.

“What?” Hank returned the gaze with his resting Cyberlife face of absolute indifference.

“Didn’t know they made androids like you. You know.” Connor gestured towards Hank and then put his hands in the air, as if Hank was supposed to understand what that meant. _No, I don’t know._

Seeing Hank’s knitted brows and slight frown, Connor sighed. “The whole looking like an aging dad thing? If Cyberlife sent you to babysit me, they really did a good job putting that across.” He snorted as a thought lit up his eyes. “Oh, you know who you remind me of? My high school history teacher, Mr. Anderson. Stick up his ass, anal as fuck.”

Hank chose to ignore that last comment. The DPD officer from before was right about how dragging the lieutenant off would ruin his mood. Either that, or Lieutenant Stern is just naturally a little shit. “I was made to resemble a hard-boiled detective.”

Connor emitted a sharp outtake of air somewhere in between a laugh and a snicker. “Well, that explains the shitty name.” He put his cigarette out with the heel of his shoe as the taxi pulled up. “Let’s see how good you are as a detective then, shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm like two years late to this fandom (cries). this is actually my first fic haha so any comments would be appreciated <3


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